The Test

Chapter Ten

    Brian walked into the room slowly, balancing a tray in his hands. "Time to eat again," he said and I slowly turned to face him. This was the third time he had come in to feed me, so I assumed that almost a day had passed since my last test.

He sat down on the corner, but I didn't move, so Brian put the tray on the floor, and lifted me up, propping me on the pillow. He then balanced the tray on my lap, expecting me to eat. I didn't.

Instead, I slumped down on the pillow closing my eyes. So far, the plan was going perfectly.

"You have to eat," Brian said.

"I don't think I could keep it down," I whispered, glad that my voice came out sounding hoarse.

"Are you sick, sweet Layna? What's wrong?" he asked softly, stroking my hair with a surprisingly gentle touch, especially now that I knew what he could do with those hands. I only groaned in response, hoping that the loud thumping of my heart in my chest couldn't be heard.

Please believe me, please, please, please.

"Daddy, something's wrong! Why is she like this? You said she wouldn't get sick! She's special daddy, she cant get sick!" I opened my eyes slightly and saw Brian flinch as if he had been struck.

This was my chance. Grabbing the nail that I had pried from the bed and hid under my pillow, I jabbed it into his neck and ran.

I could hear him screaming in pain, but I didn't stop. I ran out of the front door and down the long driveway. This time I would get away; he couldn't stop me.

When I past the forest and got to the road, I ran to the middle hoping someone would come and help. Suddenly, lights flashed in front of me and I ran towards them. This was my chance to escape.

I waved my hands, trying to get them to stop, but they didn't. Instead, they kept going, and I felt the car slam into me. I flew backwards, slamming into the asphalt.

The last thing I heard was the screech of tires and running feet before I passed out.

***

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I could feel my whole body throbbing in pain.

"Holy shit!" a voice said beside me, and I slowly turned my head, noticing the man kneeling down near my head. It was too dark to distinguish any features, but he sounded young, probably in his twenties.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even notice you there! Are you okay?"

"Give me your phone," I croaked lifting a bloody hand towards him.

"I already called them, don't worry," he said soothingly. His hands hovered over me, probably wanting to help soothe me, but unsure on how to do so he wouldn't hurt me.

I shook my head, making me see stars. "Give it to me now. Please," I begged him, on the verge of turning hysterical. I needed that phone just in case.

"Okay..." he brought out his phone and handed it to me, and I sighed in relief as the cool metal touched my skin.

I was free.

"You need to run, right now," I told him, slipping the phone into my bra. "He's going to come and find me, and you can't be here when he does."

"Hey, calm down," he said, touching my shoulder gently, "I'm going to stay right here until the police come. No ones going to hurt you—"

Suddenly, a gun went off making me flinch. The man who had been kneeling beside me slumped down on my stomach, and I could feel his warm blood seeping into my clothing. My stomach churned, and I could feel bile rising in my throat.

"I see we haven't learned our lesson yet," Brian said.

I could feel the ragged breathing of the driver as his life slowly drained away. Brian had practically killed the driver that had only been trying to help me.

Brian draped the unconscious driver over his shoulder and grabbed me by the hair, dragging me inside, and down the stairs. Shackling me to the table, he threw the now dead driver down on the floor beside me.

He shook his head as he rummaged around. "Look what you've done. This poor, innocent man, dead. All because of you."

I closed my eyes as he came closer to my face, and a few tears leaked out, "You killed him," I whispered, "Not me. You're the one that shot him."

He slapped me across the face, and I opened my eyes gasping at the pain. "You killed him!" he yelled, spittle flying in my face.

"NO!" I screamed, the tears overflowing from my eyes. He growled, pulling out a knife that he must have gotten from the shelf. He pressed it against my throat, digging into the skin.

"Admit it," he said in a low voice.

"There's nothing to admit," I whispered.

"This is the last time I'm going to say this," he whispered, grabbing the dead driver by the hair and shoving him in my face. "Admit it!"

When I didn't say anything, Brian roared. "Fine, you bitch don't admit it. But his blood is on your hands, you just need to see that. You need to learn to be responsible for your actions."

In one quick movement, Brian took off the guy's shirt and using the knife, slit him deeply from his neck to his stomach. He then laid the guy on me, so we were stomach to stomach, and I could feel his warm blood seeping into my body. I screamed as Brian stuck his hand into the blood and rubbed it all over my face.

With a dark chuckle, Brian left the room, leaving the driver to bleed out on top of me. When the door slammed, the driver groaned, and I flinched. I had thought that he was dead.

"Help... me," he croaked.

Tears streamed down my face. "I can't," I whispered. "He tied me up."

The driver let out a strangled scream. "It hurts," he moaned.

"I know it does. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I never meant for you to get hurt. I'm so, so, so sorry," I hiccupped.

"Not your...fault.... crazy motherfucker...name?"

"My name?" I asked, and I could feel him nod against my chest. "Layna...Layna Keston. What's your name?"

"Michael...saw you on the news...you been here long?" he asked, his voice small.

"I don't know," I croaked. I had no sense of time when he left me here.

Michael nodded again, "Thinks so...what's this?"

I knew he was talking about the phone that I had hid. He must have felt it when he was nodding his head.

"It's your phone."

With a groan of pain, he lifted his head, and my eyes met with dark brown ones. "I'm...sorry," he whispered, and then slowly brought his hand under my shirt and into my bra. I flinched at his cold hand, but I knew what he was doing so I didn't complain.

He pulled out the cell phone, but then his head slumped back down to my chest. He didn't move from there. "No...no...nonononono!" I cried. My had fell back onto the table, the hope that had been spreading in my chest quickly evaporating.

Suddenly, I heard a ringing and a voice call out:

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?"